Monologue
by Phire Phoenix
Summary: -Complete- "They made their choice. Do not be so arrogant as to assume that you are able to influenec your peers, let alone your betters." Harry's POV. Dumbledore's manipulations may be useful after all
1. Self addressing spell

Inspired by "Welcome to my life" by someone whose name I forgot . sorry.

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I suppose it's ungrateful of me, is it, to rant about my life? To complain about the fact that I have no proper family, when there are countless orphans outside of Hogwarts who do not even have the inheritance I do. To shudder at my Aunt and Uncle's, shall we say, mistreatment, when there are numerous children being physically, sexually and mentally abused every day. To think of the fact that I only have a 50/50 chance at living, when those diagnosed with Cancer - it's a fatal muggle malady for which there is no cure - have even less. 

If you put it into that perspective, I'm really quite a spoiled little boy. The-Boy-Who-Lived, they call me. More like the boy who lived and bloody well refused to die. You were right, after all, Professor. I'm a spoiled arrogant brat who struts about the school, acting as if I am above the rules.

Would I get away without detention if I told you that this is my way of dealing with my personal demon? That all this stress which my fragile little mind can't cope with is driving me to absurd notions. I could use the weight of the wizarding world as an excuse for me being 'unbalanced', as the Daily Prophet would tel you with glee. And you know, despite the wizarding world being completely different from the muggle world, there are quite a few common points.

Well yes, apart from the fact that both worlds have to deal with an insufferable prat like me. I'd appreciate it if you kept your comments to yourself, sir. After all, you were the one who wished to talk to me about my life because Dumbledore's precious golden boy is going mad.

I'm actually quite glad that you did. Not many people listen to me talk without interrupting with bouts of "Oh Harry!" or "You poor dear!" or perhaps even, "Can I quote you on that, Mr. Potter?". Yes, I realise it is on the orders of Dumbledore. That does not mean I'm not thankful to you that you did.

Because even though my troubles are insignificantly small when you compare them to others, it doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

There, that's another thing to report back to Dumbledore. "Potter is lost in a world of self-pity and cannot raise his head above the depression in order to combat the Dark Lord, it is in the Light's best interest to seek out another martyr or savior, no matter what the prophecy states."

I'm sorry Professor. Please don't kick me out, I'll stop this insolence, I really will.

If Malfoy could see me now, begging to you. He would have a field day.

Sorry. I'll get on with it.

Where was I? Oh yes, common points between Muggles and Wizards. Well for one, that both 'races', if you will, consider me to be an abnormal freak which should be at worst locked up, at best killed. Who? What do you mean who? The Daily Prophet, Fudge. You.

Oh you meant the Muggle world. well, my Aunt and Uncle and my cousin for one. And by extension, every single other person I've known, as my only living relatives have made it clear enough to the world that I'm a mad delinquent.

Shocked, professor? I don't see why you should be. After all, one does not live in a cupboard ofr 11 years because one is loved. Don't pretend you don't know. My Hogwarts letter, for Merlin's sake, was addressed to the Cupboard under the Stairs.

Oh. An self-addressing spell. Forget I said anything.

No, I do not wish to talk about it. I don't give a damn what Professor Dumbledore thinks I need. And don't you ruddy well try to tell me that he has my best interests at heart. I don't see how lying to me for over five years is in my best interest.

Yes, I've heard your "The Headmaster does not wish to divulge his plans" speech before. But when the matter at hand involves me more directly than any other person alive, perhaps Voldemort???

Yes, I do mean the prophecy. So you've heard it? Oh great. Everyone knows except me, the person the prophecy speaks about. Don't you think, had I known about this sooner, I would have taken things more seriously? Don't you think, had Dumbledore told me that there was something 100 at stake, I would have tried to look past your jeers and your sneers and tried to learn Occlumency?

Oh come on, don't fool yourself, professor. For you, Occlumency is nothing more than an excuse to taunt poor little Potter boy with haunting memories of his past. It's not like you actually tried to teach me. It was more something along the lines of "Potter! Shield your mind!". But were you going to explain how? Were you going to explain exactly how the mind is attacked, so I could better defend?

No, of course not. Because it was oh so amusing watching poor little Harry Potter, at the age of 3, bawling his eyes out because he scalded his hands washing the dishes!

I'm sorry. I'll stop. I should go, it's late.

I'll see you tomorrow in Potions, professor.

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Will be updated on a regular basis. Expect somewhere around two or three times a week. Not meant to be long. Maybe 4-5 chapters at most.

Thanks for reading, and please review! grin

Phire


	2. Potter, our new celebrity

Thanks to those who reviewed grins Yes, Harry is talking to someone. Snape, in fact, who is only listening because Dumbledore insists that having Harry unburden would be beneficial to Occlumency. Both protested vehemently at first, but as you can see from the first chapter, once you start ranting, you can't stop.

It is now precisely 1:53 am, and I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes I've made. I'm too tired to care. I wrote this after completely a five-page long German speech, and quite honestly, I couldn't give a damn about the typos. or the fact that this chapter is quite pathetic. I will attempt to edit it later.

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Dumbledore only told you to listen. You don't have to pretend to be interested. I'm fine with you looking at the watch. And you certainly don't have the obligation to pry things out of me.

I don't even know why I'm being so calm about this. Hermione must've slipped me a calming draught tonight. Either that or a Babbling Potion.

Yes, I agree. She _is_ clever. Mind you, it's a shock hearing _you_ say that.

I'm sorry sir. You're right. We're not here to discuss your behaviour pattern.

I don't mean to sound insolent.

Alright. Let's begin. Another session of Potter's wonderful wallowings in self-pity. You should have one of Skeeter's quick-quote-quills. The book would sell better than Lockhart's. I'm not being arrogant, just bitterly observant of the Wizarding World's workings. At the slightest drop of a pin, the slightest clue to something other than their previous belief, they are willing to drop everything and adopt the current public opinion. It's quite ridiculous, because the 'current public opinion' is written by nothing more than less than talented witches with enough time on their hands to become an illegal animagus so they could spy on their innocent suspects.

I'm talking about Skeeter, of course. Who did you think I was talking about?

Yes, the same Skeeter who wrote that love article about me and Hermione.

Oh gods, I think she really did slip me a Babbling Potion for me to be talking calmly about_ this_, of all things.

No, I do not think it amusing that you read it out loud in class. You would do well as my Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The reason? It's obvious, isn't it? All of them so far, even Lupin, in an unconscious act that was out of his control and not his fault at all, have tried to kill me. Or at least make my life a living hell.

You knew about Quirrell. Oh Lockhart? Didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you? He tried to curse me so I wouldn't tell the world he was a hypocrite. Imagine that. There was Lupin. I won't go into that. Then there was Moody. And finally Umbridge, whom you provided with Veri - excuse me, False Veritaserum.

So you see, if Dumbledore had given you the position this year, it would have fit nicely into the pattern. A former potions professor who has intricate knowledge of poisons, absolutely hates my guts, would love nothing more than to make my life a living hell without actually breaking me so that by some charming mistake I can defeat Voldemort, hated my father and did not give me a chance to even talk before condemning me, and in general wishes to have me eliminated for good without contaminating his hands.

That about sum it up, Professor?

Thank you. That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all year.

Well if nothing else, you can't deny the 'father' part. You've hated since before I had the chance to speak to you. You've made assumptions about me that are about as far-fetched as anything. And I'm going to let you know why. I acknowledge the fact that I'm selfish and petty when put into perspective with the world at large. But you know what? I quite honestly don't care.

Before you write that down as another one of my faults, ignorance and indifference, let me talk.

Please.

What were the first words you said to me?

Hmm, curious that you would not remember them, as they are engraved in my brain.

"Potter. Our new...celebrity"

You haven't had a single word with me before then. I would assume not even while I was a baby, as you detested James and probably would not have come near any offspring of his with a ten-foot pole.

But that was then, this is now. I grew up away from James Potter, and you knew that fully well. I grew up with my own personality, and thoughts - yes I do think, contrary to what you, sir, might believe. But you merely saw what you assumed to be a carbon-copy of James and immediately decided that I was not worth a single chance.

Now perhaps I'm being hypocritical here. Maybe you have some ulterior motive as to why exactly you were being a snar - I mean, acting the way you were. Maybe your motives are noble and for the greater good of the wizarding world. Maybe there exists some reason unknown to me between you and the Marauders that is the cause of your actions to me. Maybe. I don't know.

But pardon me if that is unclear an 11-year old boy who has never known Magic to even exists is suddenly thrown into a world full of things he has never dared to imagine because imagination does not sit well with his aunt and uncle.

Do you know what I dreamt of when I realised I was capable of parseltongue? That night? I dreamt of the motorcycle Hagrid used to take me from Godric's Hollow to Privet Drive. And do you know what the consequence of mentioning said dream to my Aunt and Uncle were?

I was yelled at while in the car, causing it to nearly crash because Uncle Vernon was more intent on setting me straight on the nonexistence of magic than the safety of his family, myself, and another Muggle.

What do you mean, surely I would've been told something? If I was told something, I might get the notion that magic is good! And we can't possibly have that happening, because then my aunt and uncle wouldn't be able to squash the magic out of me! And if they abandon their efforts at killing my magic, then they would have an abnormal freak in the family, and oh gasp, who horrible that would look to the neighbours!

You might find it amusing, professor, but I don't.

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there. I realise that both characters are a little OOC... I've tried to explain it away with a ridiculous excuse, but... yeah sighs this is how I would imagine they would interact if Snape had been told explicitly by Dumbledore that he is not to comment on Harry's ranting and harry was given more or less free rein. it's a situation that will never happen shrug but hey Grins I love Harry/Snape non-slah mentor/help ish fics XD

Thanks for reading, and Please review!

Phire


	3. Infinite Wisdom

Curiously enough, after going back, there weren't as many mistakes in Chapter 2 as I thought. The chapter is still poorly executed, but now that I'm more or less awake, everything seems a lot less morbid. 

Review Responses are at the bottom of the page.

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What is the point to this, you ask? To make you see what a miserable life I've lead over the years and make you pity me and coddle me like you seem to think the rest of the staff does? Or perhaps to give you cannon fodder for when I destroy yet another potion, waste yet another batch of your precious ingredients? 

To be honest, I really don't know. Emotions confuse me. You know, it really would have been easier if Dumbledore got what he wanted - a jaded fighting machine oblivious to the joys and pains of the world, trained to defeat that arsehole we know as Voldemorts, before slipping into a black void, never to be seen again.

Ron and Hermione? You know, they would get over it. They would be sad for a while, but they have each other. And if the jaded fighting machine really accomplished what it set out to do, surely, a few lives could be sacrificed in the name of freedom? After all, what matters one arrogant brat when the fate of the wizarding world hangs in the balance?

Nothing, that's what.

We're coming down to selfishness again. And I'm sorry if my almost non-existent brain cannot seem to grasp the fact that the World matters more than me, but when I am preordained to either murder or be murdered, it comes down to three words.

Life.

Really.

Sucks.

Infinite wisdom summed up in three words. I'm proud of myself.

In ways, I suppose, you're quite similar to me. Well, asides from the hair colour, our mutual hatred for each other and Voldemort, and our dislike of Dumbledore's manipulations, I mean. Neither of us had a particularly pleasant childhood, although I seem to have gotten off much better than you. Both of us are determined to prove something to the world, to contradict our despicable families. And you could even say we're both ambitious.

Don't laugh. The sorting hat almost put me in Slytherin. That might have done the inter-house relationships some good, don't you think? The boy which symbolises, no matter how sick or corny that sounds, the Light, placed in the House that is stereotypically considered Dark. Either it will help them get over the stupid prejudices about Slythering and Gryffindor, or they will assume that I'm the next Dark Lord.

Yeah, I think the second one's more likely, too.

But see, because people have this expectation of me, because people like Mr. Ollivander and Dedalus Diggle assume that I am powerful, that I symbolize the Light and belong in Gryffinder, because of that I am so obstinately rebellious. They assume I am powerful because of a silly scar, because of a piece of magic I've had to lose my parents for, a piece of magic which my mother, not I performed, I am to be treated as some type of Hero, placed upon a pedestal, and worshipped. While in the meantime, Dumbledore is standing right beside me, force-feeding me his ideals, morphing me into the Hero he wants, the Hero the public would want, without me even noticing it.

Fame hasn't shrouded my eyes, Professor. Fame is like a pack of hounds, leaping upon me without information and refusing to let go until they have what they want. In either case, not pleasant.

I do not wish to be famous. Don't you think I would give all the money in my Gringott's vault, the safety of the wizarding world, and then some, to see my parents and Sirius again? I would rather be a nobody, failing potions on my own accord with no way to get out of retaking the course, than be Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Be a nobody, and have nothing more than a failing potions course to worry about. Not Potter. Just Harry.

Just Harry.

Sounds rather cliché, doesn't it? "Just Harry"

Well I'm sorry if that's the way I feel. I can't help it. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and while you might sneer at it, disagree with that way of life, mutter bitterly about stubborn Gryffindors, that's who I am and you can't change that.

Hmm? The Past?

Yes, I suppose you're right.

Well that's one way of looking at it. The Past cannot be changed, just the same as my stubborn Gryffindor qualities cannot be changed.

The past. Horrible thing.

"If I were not so busy running away from it, I would learn to deal with it."

Don't make me laugh, Professor. Dealing with the past. You, of all people, tell me to deal with the past, when you yourself have not overcome your old demons. That's rich. You have even less excuses of running away from the past than I do.

At least you're not responsible for what happened to you in the Past.

I am for me.

Don't lie to me, Professor. Sirius died on my account. Cedric died on my account. If I were not a stupid Gryffindor, if I didn't insist on acting the Hero, if I didn't tell the Sorting Hat that I refuse to be in Slytherin, I might have had some sense in my brain to realise what's going on and prevented two deaths. Two deaths were indirectly caused by me, but I might as well have uttered the god damned curse myself!!!

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Last Chapter Coming up, and it's going to be in third person. 

aljake - I'm not very good at characterizing Snape (I'm not even really any good at characterizing Harry) so I don't think I will be doing a Snape POV for this fic. I don't think I could handle Snape talking for a few thousand words. He strikes me as the active and not the verbal type. -grins- Sorry! I'm thinking of writing another one like the fic 'Sorry' though. You could say it would be another take on it, another apology fic... Thanks for reviewing!

Kitty-Noir - My personality? Really? -blinks- I'm really that whiny? lol. Nah, I don't think my problems are anywhere near as severe as our lovely Potter-boy's grins but if he sounds like me, it's not intentional . -sweatdrop- Thanks for reviewing!

duj - Thank you for your honest opinion -grins- After thinking the first part of your review over, I can't really say that I agree wholeheartedly, but you do have a very good point, and I will try to keep that in mind. As for the second part, the part that pertains to the story - keep in mind this is from Harry's perspective, and Harry is biased in favour of himself. If I were writing an analysis of the relationship between the two, it would be different. But yes. Thanks you for pointing it out a well as the helpful constructive criticism -grins- I really appreciate it! (look, I used spell check this time...-blush-)


	4. Monologue no more

Snape stands up abruptly, startling Harry, who had been staringly forlornly ahead for some time now. A confused expression flits across his face, to be replaced by apprehension when Snape walks around his desk, sweeping some of the essays he'd been marking to the floor. 

"Do not," he hissed, his voice soft, deadly, icy, "do not even dare to blame yourself for something the Dark Lord initiated." Harry breathed in sharply, trying to lean back inconspicuously as Snape advanced further. "They made their choice. Do not be so arrogant as to assume that you are able to influence your peers, let alone your betters." He paused in his tirade long enough to sneer, presumably at the memory of Sirius.

Harry blinked at him, completely nonplussed. Snape continued to glare down at him from his impressive height. "Do I make myself clear, Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded, just because it was the only action he could think of doing at that point.

"Do you understand that which I'm trying to convey?" Harry frowned lightly, but nodded at any rate. Snape's nostrils flared and he drew his robes tighter around himself, but he did not move from where he stood, towering over the Gryffindor.

"Blaming yourself induces bitterness and indifference. We do not want that in our Savior, now do we?" Snape's voice contained the usual bite, but to Harry it seemed as though there were undertones of carefully concealed anxiety.

"Speaking from experience, sir?" Harry asked, dully. He wasn't prepared for the flash of anger that flew through Snape's eyes before disappearing under a mask of stoicism.

"Rather."

"Oh." He fell silent and focused on his shoes instead, wishing that he had the courage to ask to be dismissed. Some Gryffindor. A long-suffering sigh from above him drew him out of his intense studying of his scuffed laces.

"Blaming yourself for something that is not you fault gives the impression that you can change the fact. This impression drives you to seek means you would not consider otherwise." Snape's face was carefully blank, his eyes unfocused. Harry nodded, not certain if Snape had seen him or not. He thought he knew what Snape was talking about. Means otherwise unconsidered? It's not hard to fathom the implications behind those words.

Snape looked down at him again, seeming almost surprised to see him there. Harry looked away again, not meeting his gaze, eliciting a scowl that went unnoticed.

"Mr. Potter, if I ever catch you saying anything of the sort, if I ever catch you thinking anything of the sort, if I hear news from trustworthy source of you saying and thinking anything of the sort, ever again, it'll be 100 points from Gryffindor." Harry's head snapped up in alarm, anger and confusion battling within him.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed."

Harry paused outside the door, shutting it lightly. Dumbledore's words floated across his mind.

'When you feel ready, these sessions should be terminated, they will be.'

Ready for what, the Headmaster hadn't answered him. But with a slight smile, he set off towards the ugly stone gargoyle.


End file.
